


brooding demons & sushi in boxes.

by girl412



Series: first day of the rest of their (ineffable) lives [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Best Friends, Brooding, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Softness, Sushi, i think? i don't know how to tag this, ineffable takeout, very light angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/girl412
Summary: The whole Armageddon thing has been successfully stopped in its tracks, and everything they've lost has been returned to them. Given this, what exactly is Crowley doing in Aziraphale's bookshop, looking as if he's grieving?Aziraphale finds out.





	brooding demons & sushi in boxes.

**Author's Note:**

> this is possibly part 1 of a ‘_crowley has ptsd from the near-end of the world_’ scenario that i thought of at like 4am. what can i say, i love them and i wanted to write something Soft. 
> 
> thank you fran for looking this one over, thank u caly for the reassurance + support + enabling me to stay up 'til 5 in the morning talking about good omens & other things, thank you emma for being excited about this thing from the first second i mentioned it. and thank YOU reader. anyway. onwards!

Crowley’s in the library, curled into a corner, pensiveness written into the very angles of his body, the slope of his back. There’s something odd and lonesome about his position, as if Armageddon had actually happened and left him the last entity alive. Light from an overhead window falls gently, catching on his hair so that it looks almost like a forest fire. Aziraphale thinks of the Bentley on fire, thinks of the Queen songs they’d always have on while in transit. Aziraphale looks at Crowley’s clear and visible dejection, and something in his heart pangs.

It’s clear that Crowley wants to be left alone, but certainly if this is his intention, he would’ve chosen a better place than his best friend’s bookshop to brood. Bearing this in mind, Aziraphale walks up to him, careful to pace his steps slowly and gently, as if cornering a wild animal. Crowley still has those shades on and one of his hands is holding a godawful cigar, of all things.

“I thought you dropped that habit decades ago,” Aziraphale says, in lieu of a greeting.

“'M not smoking it,” Crowley says, something off in his tone. “I just like how it feels in my hand.”

Aziraphale raises an eyebrow, sits next to Crowley. They’re not touching, but they’re close enough that if either of them were to move even a little, they’d collide. Crowley wordlessly hands the cigar to Aziraphale.

“See what I mean?” he asks. “The weight of it, the way it feels when you hold it? I’m remembering.”

Aziraphale sort of does see what he means. It’s a comforting thing to hold, certainly.

“If this sort of thing gives you comfort, my dear, maybe we could look into some more recent inventions that serve the same function? Fidget spinners, and the like?” he suggests.

Crowley laughs; a jagged, rough, demonic thing of a laugh. 

“Fidget spinners? _Me_?” he smirks. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass.”

They’re back in comfortable territory, and a more sensible angel than Aziraphale would’ve let them remain there. However, a more sensible angel than Aziraphale wouldn’t have befriended Crowley in the first place.

Making his voice as gentle as possible, Aziraphale says, “What has you looking so torn up, then? You looked rather grim, darling.”

“That’s what Satan calls me,” Crowley mutters under his breath. He takes the shades off, folds them carefully and lays them on the floor. His eyes are in true form, the way they always are when it’s just them alone in the bookshop; yellow, undilated, and as reptile as it gets.

Aziraphale doesn’t say or do anything. He waits for Crowley to talk, and stretches his legs out as he waits.

Crowley sighs, a sigh that seems to travel throughout his body and inhabit the air around him. In a fluid movement that seems characteristic of his snakeiness, he leans back, angling his body so that his head falls on Aziraphale’s shoulder while his back is still against the wall.

“I’m processing,” he says.

Aziraphale is also processing, just then. Crowley is a warm, comfortable weight, and it’s strange that despite all their intimacy over the eons, they’ve never actually done casual touch, at least, not like this.

“Processing the end of the world, y’know,” Crowley goes on to say. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

“The world _didn’t_ end, though,” Aziraphale says. “That’s the bottom line of it. We succeeded and they’re all going to leave us alone now.”

“Came pretty damn close,” Crowley mutters. He sighs. “I can’t stop thinking about it at inopportune moments. Can’t fucking look at fire anymore, not without thinking of the bookshop in flames, my Bentley, everything we could’ve lost.” A tremor runs through him, and Aziraphale feels it because of their proximity. “I know Adam restored everything,” he says. “But I can’t forget, you know. I really thought I’d lost you for good.”

Aziraphale can’t think of an endearment strong enough to convey what he wants to say, so he settles for taking Crowley’s hand and twining their fingers together. “I know,” he says softly.

Crowley takes a shuddering breath, and moves even closer to Aziraphale, who carefully wraps his arms around him.

“I’m right here, Crowley,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Crowley makes an indescribable noise.

“Stay the night,” Aziraphale says. “We can get takeout.”

“Is that something we do, now?” Crowley asks.

“If you want,” Aziraphale says.

Crowley gives him a look that could mean anything and everything, or possibly, even nothing.

“Of course I _want_, angel,” he says fondly, not missing a beat. 

So that’s what they do. 

**Author's Note:**

> more coming soon!!!!!!!! hope you liked this <3
> 
> my twitter's @ gothzabini, it's so far 100% hp stan stuff but you know WHAT. that's about to change.


End file.
